Ridgerunner Touge
by MoonRunnerDuke
Summary: Two ridgerunning teams of muscle car driving Southern boys join up and head to Japan's Gunma Prefecture for some serious competition with Project D. Note: First car story, any advice would be appreciated!
1. Prologue

Ridgerunner Touge

Disclaimer: I do not own Initial D, and any references made to any other television shows, films, or works of fiction are meant to pay homage and I am in no way making money off this story. It's just a labor of love.

Prologue

Mt. Akagi, 12:00 a.m.

"Aniki, what's the matter?" Keisuke Takahashi asked his older brother, Ryosuke, who seemed deep in thought as they stood near the guardrails in the lot of Mt. Akagi.

"Hm? What?" The elder Takahashi looked over at his brother.

"Are you alright? You don't look too well."

"Well, looks can be deceiving, Keisuke. I'm not sick or anything, so don't worry about it."

Keisuke raised his brow. "I didn't mean health wise, I meant in terms of spirits. You look…well, like I said, deep in thought."

Ryosuke blinked. He had forgotten that brothers often picked up on each other's emotions faster than others could.

"Well, what's bothering you?" Keisuke asked him.

"The competition." Ryosuke sighed softly.

"What about it?"

"It's been getting pretty stale lately. I mean, we've defeated pretty much every reputable team out here, and there's virtually no one left save for amateurs."

"Yeah, I've noticed that too." Keisuke agreed. It was all true about the competition being stale lately. Project D had managed to defeat even the most skilled teams in vicious battles and their reputation was growing. There would only be a matter of time before Ryosuke would retire from street racing to study medicine full-time.

"It's kind of disheartening when I think about it. Almost like we've reached the end of our rope. I mean, where do we go from here, brother? The only ones left are snot nose punks who can barely drift half a corner and we don't waste our time on them."

"Maybe there's more competition out there than we think; we just aren't looking."

"There's some good news in that. We don't have to look; someone may have already found it for us."

This caught Keisuke's attention. "What do you mean? How?"

"Do you remember Sung?"

"Sung?" Keisuke blinked a few times before the name finally rose from memory. "You mean Han Sung? _Our_ Han Sung?"

Ryosuke nodded. "That's the one. I met up with him a week ago."

"What?!" Keisuke's eyes popped out and his jaw dropped. "You saw him a week ago and didn't tell me?!"

"It wasn't the right time then. Now, it is. Just calm down and I'll tell you everything."

Keisuke obliged, relaxed and listened to his older brother's story.

"Last Thursday, I was analyzing some read-outs when I got an instant message from someone with the screen name 'Drift Sifu.'

"Sounds like a screen name he would use." Keisuke didn't repress a grin. 'Drift Sifu' was in fact Sung's nickname.

"Yeah. Well anyway, the message pops up on the screen and reads out 'Ry, quit looking at car porn and meet me at Akagi pronto.' At first, I thought that…"

Ryosuke's sentence was cut off by Keisuke's chuckle. "He always had to have a funny spin with words."

Ryosuke himself was only slightly amused. "Maybe so, but can I continue?"

"Sorry, Aniki."

"Thank you. Anyway, I thought that message was just some joker trying to bluff me with a phony challenge on our home turf. But, just as I began typing down a rebuttal, I noticed how _casual_ the sentence read out; this person was talking like he knew me somehow. So, instead of telling him to piss off, I asked 'Who are you?' The response was 'Come on, Ry-boy, don't tell me you forgot your dear Sifu! Shut the damn computer off and meet me already!' Then he logged off. After that brief conversation was over, I grabbed my keys, jumped into the FC and hauled ass over here as fast as I could. Then, I got a little surprise."

"What kind?"

"Well, when I arrived at the bottom, I remembered the guy didn't say exactly where on Akagi to meet him. I assumed he meant the starting lot here, so I made my way uphill. Then, I noticed a car following me. It kept some distance and didn't look like it was trying to challenge me, but when I accelerated, it caught up with me. When we hit the first hairpin, I saw the car, a Veilside RX-7, in my rearview mirror. I couldn't shake him because every time I drifted a corner, he parallel-drifted with me. Every time I hit the gas, he hit it and caught up to me. Finally, we reached the starting lot and I parked. He comes sliding right beside me, two inches away from contact. The window rolls down, and guess who sticks his head out?"

"Our old friend, Sung?"

"That's right. He wore sunglasses even though it was night, and he had a big grin on his face. I jumped out of the car to meet him because I got so amped. And you know how much it takes to get me amped up. We greeted and shared a hug and he commented on how much I've grown since he last saw me. I asked how he was and if he had just came back to Gunma. He told me three weeks before then he had arrived after a contact of his called to say his trouble with the local Yakuza had been settled. Expensively, but settled. All he said of that trouble was a deal he had with that clan went bad, and he got blamed for it. That made him take an impromptu vacation. One of his stops was America to check to out the race scene. Turns out he might have found us some new challengers."

"Really?" Keisuke's interest was peaked by now. "What kind?"

"Well, he didn't say much except they were two different teams that ran with a lot of power and torque under their hoods, and he befriended them both. Nice guys he said for the most part. Full of pride, but just some 'good ol' boys' as he put it. They don't run touges races like us, but some they called 'ridge running'. Similar to rallying. He talked to one of the leaders and asked if they wanted some serious competition since they had the same problem as us. He told Sung that he would talk it over with the rest of the guys and the other team first, and then get back to him. Well, fast forward a few weeks later, and here was Sung with an offer of a lifetime, and I didn't refuse. After all, this could be what we've been looking for; the chance to lay down the ultimate legacy of Project D."

Keisuke was really excited now. The chance to show Project D's skills against foreign racers was too tempting to resist. If they won, they would become living legends.

"So, when are they coming?"

"As soon as Sung gives us the word that they're in."

The two brothers walked back to and sat on the hoods of their respective cars: Ryosuke on the white FC, and Keisuke on the yellow FD. The crew was too busy analyzing Takumi's performance to notice the conversation between the Rotary Brothers.

"Takumi is heading back up," Hiroshi Fumihiro announced. "Shouldn't take him much longer."

"How'd he do tonight?" Ryosuke asked.

"Perfect, as usual." Hiroshi replied as he smiled, feeling grateful they had Takumi on their side.

"Good. After he gets back, have Keisuke make another run."

"Gotcha, boss."

Soon after, Takumi Fujiwara pulled up in his legendary AE86 and parked next to the van. He shut off the engine, got out, and looked at the Takahashis.

"So," he began, "How did I do tonight?"

Fumihiro looked at Ryosuke for a moment. Ryosuke nodded to him and shifted back to Takumi.

"You did fine tonight."

"Really?" Takumi downplayed his pride at Ryosuke's compliment to avoid sounding like an excitable little kid. It didn't really take much effort since Takumi always had a naturally sleepy tone.

"Yes, really," Ryosuke told him, adding, "But, that's no reason to slack off. Let Keisuke make another uphill run while you take a break. Then, you make another downhill run. The second you slack off, is when you lose sight of your goal."

_"Why another run?"_ Takumi asked himself. Even though their practice sessions were usually long, he had noticed Ryosuke had been drilling them a little bit more than usual lately.

In the end he shrugged it off, thinking it was just to keep their skills sharp.

"Alright."

Keisuke opened the door to his FD and hopped in. As soon as the engine started, the car roared away from the lot. As Keisuke attempted to break his last uphill record, Takumi just couldn't help but look at Ryosuke and feel that something big was going to happen in Gunma sometime soon…

* * *

North Carolina, 12:00 a.m.

Monroe Woods were usually quiet around midnight. The only sounds to be heard would be trees whisping, crickets chirping, owls hooting, some possum rustling in the leaves and the occasional howl of a coyote. All peaceful sounds really; nothing that would wake any of the living up, or the dead. There were a few things that ran around these woods at night that were capable of waking the dead. But, they weren't humans or even animals.

They were machines; BIG machines that ate up the road and left it behind like a carnivore eating the meat of its prey and leaving the carcass.

Suddenly, dual beams of light jumped on, illuminating the dirt road ahead. The critters and trees peaceful sounds were interrupted by loud roars that would scare an army of lions into submission.

Power sliding from the first corner after the 'Slow down; Curve Ahead' sign was a red-orange 1969 Dodge Charger R/T, packing a 440 V-8 under the hood. Following close by came a blood red 1969 Ford Boss 302 Mustang. Although more engines were sounded, no other cars passed the corner until four seconds later.

After that time had passed, a pitch-black 1968 Pontiac GTO with a 400 V-8 took the corner aggressively, brushing by inches away from the guardrail that lined it. Following close behind came the remaining cars: A lime-green 1970 Plymouth Roadrunner with a 6-pack 440 under it's black hood, an eggshell-white 1970 Dodge Challenger with a 426-Hemi, and a 1976 midnight blue Pontiac Firebird Trans-Am with a 455.

The Charger and the Mustang lead the pack down several long corners and straight roads, both of the drivers enjoying the sound of loud engines and gravel being kicked up from their tires. The GTO sped furiously after them on the straights, but had to slow down around the corners to avoid crashing due to his aggressiveness. The other cars behind let him up a few meters ahead for safety, knowing the driver's recklessness too well. Normally, the drivers would rub (or lightly bump) each other's cars just for the fun of it like when they raced sometimes. Tonight, no one had rubbed another due to the importance of the upcoming meeting. Everyone just focused on getting to the spot.

Turning left at a fork in the road, and following a long straight stretch was a length of ditch with two dirt mounds surrounding both sides. Normal cars couldn't make it the only way through the barrier, which really wasn't through it, but over it: Jumping it.

It wasn't too long or too high of a jump; just big enough so ordinary stock cars or cop cars couldn't make it. Each of the cars heading toward that particular jump had braced their chassis and frames, and used the best shocks around to keep their cars from getting damaged.

As the jump mound neared, the driver of the Charger honked his horn, which rang out the first 12 notes of the Dixie anthem, to make the Mustang driver behind him honk his horn and relay the warning to the GTO, and so on. The car promptly shot up the mound and gracefully jumped over the ditch with the driver letting a loud 'yeehaw' rebel yell in mid-air. A second later it landed on the other side and kicked up dirt as it went along.

The Boss Mustang took its turn to jump, and although not as graceful as the Charger, seemed to float evenly before landing on the other side. Looking at his rearview mirror, the Mustang driver saw how monstrous the GTO seemed, pouncing in the air and lunging right behind him at his tailpipe as it honked.

Up ahead, he saw the Charger head into a patch of spacious round land, then executing a 180 turn and sliding rear first up to a rusted guardrail in the middle of the land. He smirked and pulled his handbrake, executing the same turn and sliding to the right beside him, honking his horn.

Seconds later, the GTO slid right beside the Boss, centimeters away. If the driver had less skill, he would have crashed. Luckily, he had some sense in him and just recklessness. The Roadrunner and the Challenger took their places beside the Charger while the Firebird took it's own beside the GTO.

The drivers of the Charger and the Mustang turned to their own teams and signaled for them to shut their engines off. Then, each driver rolled their windows down and got out through them.

From the Charger stepped out Brian Jennings, a young Southern blond man of 22, while Tyrone Gibson, an African-American man of the same age stepped out from the Mustang. Both walked over to each other, dapped hands and hugged like brothers for a moment before separating. The other drivers came out of their own cars and sat either in the window spaces or on the hoods.

"S'up, Mopar boy?" Tyrone greeted him.

"Nuthin' much, Ford man," Bo replied. "Mustang Sally break down on ya' yet?"

"Hell no. She may be named "the Boss", but I call the shots. An' she's been running even better with the way I've been tuning her."

"'Tuning her' huh?" Bo smirked playfully. "Is that what you're calling it nowadays, Ty? I didn't think you took that 'off-ramp.'" Bo and Tyrone shared a chuckle on that little remark, the others joined in with laughter.

"Ohhhhh, snap. Naw, not THAT way. Don't get my relationship between _my_ car and myself get you confused between what you and," he thumbed at the Charger, "General Lee got goin' on between ya'll with that Southern comfort." He was of course referring to the famous Charger used in 'The Dukes of Hazzard', a famous television show that Brian and his jet-black haired cousin Liam, driver of the Challenger, were quite fond of.

Everyone around broke out laughing again except for Jack Gavin, the brown-haired bad boy driver of the GTO. He said nothing, but kept sneering at the friendly conversation between the two leaders, hating the idea of an alliance between their two racing teams.

Tyrone, Jack, and Quentin Reese were members of the racing team, F/GM RidgeRollers; FGM standing for 'Ford and General Motors." Those were the brands of muscle cars each member drove. For their logo, the Fs and GMs were joined by a lightning bolt instead of a simple slash. Each member kept stickers of their team name on their doors.

As for Brian, Liam and Jason "Critter" Jones, they drove for the Mopar Moonrunners, taking their name from their use of Mopar (Chrysler brand) vehicles exclusively for racing, and running moonshine. Full moons stood in for the o's in 'Mopar' and 'moon', with another moon, eclipsed, standing in between both words of their logo. The members kept their team stickers on their rear fenders.

After the laughter died down, Brian asked Tyrone, "So, what're we meeting out here for, Ty? Somethin' about you wanting to form an alliance?"

"Yeah, somethin' like that."

"What for?"

"Well, you know how we're always racing against each other, some of our guys beating some of yours and vice versa, until ultimately no team wins?"

"Tying up? Yeah, what about it?"

"Well, what say instead of trying to _beat_ each other, we _join_ each other? Like that old saying 'if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.'"

"Sounds kinda faggot to me," Jack muttered. Tyrone turned around and retorted, "Not that way, closet case."

Jack narrowed his eyes, "Who you callin' a closet case!"

"Man, what the hell's your problem?"

"What's my problem? Where do I start? First off, we're Ford and GM guys. We don't roll with Mopar mothers, we roll against 'em. You know that, I know that, the whole team knows that." Jack tried to reason.

"So?" Tyrone pressed him further.

"So?! We don't roll with enemies! That's so!"

Brian, Liam and Critter grew shades of red anger on their cheeks, but kept their faces as stony as possible to keep the situation leveled. Normally, Jack's words were like a match to a powder keg; a fight would have exploded out. But, since a valuable alliance was at stake, the Moonrunners kept their cool.

"Ex-enemies," Liam said, trying to cool the heat down. "Ya'll got our respect after all the runs we made against each other. As far as we're concerned, ya'll are right as rain by us."

Quentin nudged Jack very lightly in the arm with his elbow. "Yeah, come on man. They ain't all bad. They even helped us out when the law was around our asses. 'Sides, what Ty got planned might be fun."

Critter nodded in agreement, sitting near the shaker on the hood of his Roadrunner. "Yeah, c'mon fella's, let's hear the whole thing out."

When Jack saw how he outnumbered he was when it came to opinion, he felt grateful to not be in politics. He muttered, "Whatever," and crossed his arms to save some face. "I'm listenin'," he told them, not admitting that he didn't like it.

Critter couldn't let it down as he jumped onto the hood, twirling his baseball cap in the air. "How 'bout it already? I'm all hopped up for some real fun! Yahoo!" He was easily excitable when it came to the prospect of fun.

"A'ight, a'ight." Tyrone turned back to Brian. "Now, ya'll remember our homeboy Sung, right?" They all nodded. "Well, he's noticed that we've been having a problem finding other teams to race. He called me a couple of weeks after he left, and told me of another team who might give us a run for our money."

"Really? What team would that be?"

"None of ya'll know them, because they're not based around here. Hell, they ain't even based in this country."

"Just where are they located then?" Liam asked.

"Japan. And that's where we're all headed."

"WHAT?!" All members from each team, save for Liam, cried out at once. "JAPAN?!"

"Damn! Ya'll ain't gotta shout so damn loud!"

"Well, how the hell are we supposed to race in Japan? We ain't got enough money to take our cars down there!" Quentin said.

"Sung told me he'd take care of that. All we have to do is agree to go down there."

"What's the damn point anyway?" Jack asked. "If they're from Japan, they're probably just another bunch of rice burners with fart cannon exhausts who couldn't tell a distributor cap from a God damned hubcap. They'll just blow their shitty little engines before we got off the starting line!"

Ty was getting irritated with Jack's machismo and pride. "They're not ricers. Sung gave me his word that these guys know how to run their turf. I don't think he would lie about that if it wasn't worth it.

Brian blinked. The thought of going to another country was a little scary, and costly. He didn't know how much of the trip Sung was going to cover. They would still need money for themselves, their cars, their lodgings, and their food.

Despite the obvious obstacles, the thought of racing against foreign cars and showing how dominating American Muscle cars still were after all this time was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

Brian smiled and spoke up. "Well, I'm all for it." Everyone turned to look at him. "Think about it. I mean, this could be our big chance to show what we're really made of. If we take this guys all the way to victory lane, who knows what heights we could reach? We could probably hit the pro circuit and make names for ourselves. I don't know about the rest of ya'll, but I think it would be fun too." His words seemed to strike a chord with everyone there that night. Up to then, no one out of their home state had ever heard of their reputations as the best ridge racers around. Why pass up the chance to make themselves world-renown?

Liam and Critter looked at each other for a moment. Liam nodded to Critter reassuringly, who in turn shrugged his shoulders and smiled. They both turned to Brian. "We're with ya, cousin." Liam said confidently. Ty turned to face his own team, who agreed to it as well.

"A'ight," Ty announced, "it's all settled then. Fellas, we're going to Japan!" With that, everyone there let out a group rebel yell louder than any big block engine could ever rev.

Two worlds of racing were about to meet on one big starting line…

To be continued…

* * *

Author's notes: Yup, I couldn't resist. I had to do an Initial D story with southern muscle car rivals. Since this is my first attempt at a car story, I'd appreciate any help I can get to keep this fanfic as real as possible. However, keep in mind that I will not listen to advice like "Get rid of the muscle cars." I have a plan that I'm hoping will pass for plausible, but ya'll will just have to find out when that chapter comes up. 

See ya'll next time!


	2. Chapter 1

Ridgerunner Touge

Disclaimer: I do not own Initial D, and any references made to any other television shows, films, or works of fiction are meant to pay homage and I am in no way making money off this story. It's just a labor of love.

Chapter 1

Bunta Fujiwara sat at the table in the den of his tofu shop, reading a newspaper and smoking a cigarette. Every once in a while, he'd turn his head to look at the clock and check the time. Currently, it was 2:30 a.m., and Takumi hadn't arrived home from practice yet.

_"Gonna be a little later tonight, aren't we Takumi?"_ Bunta thought to himself, turning his head back to the newspaper article he was reading. _"Oh well, don't start whining when you have to make your deliveries because of how tired you're gonna be."_

Bunta didn't really care that his son was later than usual, since Takumi was no longer a minor, had a driver's license, and was to free to do as he pleased as long as he didn't get arrested or forget to come home and do the deliveries to Mt. Akina. That, and not being late for his job.

Although knowing this, he couldn't help but be curious of why Takumi was being a little later each night than the previous coming home. He already knew the practice sessions were usually long, but not like this.

_"If he's been coming home later, one of two things is happening: one, Ryosuke Takahashi is holding the sessions a little longer because of a new challenge; or two, Takumi's got himself a new lady friend and she's keeping him busy."_

Although the latter humored Bunta, and would have made him somewhat proud if it was indeed true, he shook his head as he realized the former was ultimately more plausible. Takumi hadn't had a relationship since Natsuki Mogi had left for Tokyo University.

_"She was a pretty girl, and very nice too. What a shame he let her go." _Takumi had been really late coming home two nights before she left. Bunta didn't even ask where he'd been because as soon as he smelled Natsuki's perfume on Takumi's clothes, he knew what happened. He did allow a smile for that thought, since his son was officially a man after that night. That, along with Takumi's newfound interest in racing, made Bunta Fujiwara a proud father.

After some time pondering, a car was heard parking in the alley beside the Fujiwara Tofu Shop. The engine shut off, the front door opened a few seconds later, and in stepped Takumi.

Bunta didn't face his son, but acknowledged his presence when he stepped into the den. "You're late."

Takumi yawned. "Sorry, dad. Ryosuke held the sessions a little longer tonight."

"I figured as much. What's the reason for it? You're not slacking are you?"

"No," Takumi said with some subtle annoyance. "He just said we might have some new challengers, and they're not exactly from here."

"So? You've had other challengers from different prefectures. What's the big deal?"

"Dad, I didn't mean here as in _Gunma_. I meant here as in all of _Japan_."

"Oh?" Bunta turned his head to look at his son. The last sentence had caught his attention. "Where from?"

"America. Something about a Southern states team or something with souped up old cars."

Bunta's eyes eyebrows rose in complete curiosity now. "Muscle cars?" he asked.

"Well, I don't know. He didn't use _that_ term, but he did say they were pretty powerful. Old and big from the late-sixties to mid-seventies, but powerful."

"Those _are_ muscle cars, kiddo. Any mid to full-sized car from that time period with a powerful engine is a muscle car."

Takumi was almost completely surprised that his father would know of foreign cars. Then again, it did seem reasonable, since Bunta used to be a racer. "You know about them?

"I've read a few articles about them, yeah."

"How good do they run?"

"From what I remember reading, they would make you bite their dust on the straights. But, on the corners…well, let's just say your friend Itsuki could drift better in his AE85." Bunta chuckled a little.

"Hey, Itsuki's getting better!" Takumi defended his best friend.

"Relax, kid," Bunta told his son calmly. "I wasn't insulting your friend, I was just making a point about a muscle car's cornering."

"Oh...well still-"

"Still nothing. Get your ass to bed; you have deliveries in less than two hours, and you're taking the Impreza tonight."

Takumi sighed. "Alright." He then dragged himself upstairs to get what little sleep he could get.

"Little brat," Bunta whispered lowly as he turned to the next page.

* * *

The representatives from the F/GM RidgeRollers and the Mopar Moonrunners left the lot after the meeting. Each sped home a litte faster than necessary, excited by the news they would be heading to a foreign land to race a team they didn't know much about. That made the situation just a little bit more interesting.

After Critter cut onto the road that lead to his mechanic shop/house, Brian and Liam headed to their farm that they shared with their cousin, Katy (short for Katherine), and their uncle Jake Jennings. The cousins had been living with Uncle Jake (as they called him) since all their parents had died in an unfortunate truck accident. Since Jake was a widower who had no children of his own, he took the three cousins and cared for them like they were his own. Jake did everything he could to make sure they all turned out right, and he succeeded…for the most part.

During high school, Brian and Liam competed on the wrestling team for Monroe High. Katy went to the same school so the two could 'keep an eye on her', on Uncle Jake's orders. Katy was a cheerleader and a softball player on the girls' team. She was both as beautiful as a Southern Belle could be, and was tough as grits.

Liam, being the oldest, graduated a year before Katy and two years before Brian. He didn't see himself as a college boy, but was determined to make something of himself. So, he joined up with the Army and got to spend some time around the world. One place that Liam got to visit was Japan. There, he saw their world of drift racing, and even got to run a few times himself. He won some, lost some since he was only familiar with power sliding at the time. All the same, he learned some new techniques, and was having the best time in the Land of the Rising Sun until he had to leave. Soon, after serving the mandatory four years, Liam left the Army and began helping out around the farm, and resumed helping his Uncle Jake with his moonshine runs along with Brian.

Brian, like Liam, graduated from high school but didn't see much of a future in college, so he stuck around to help out on the farm, and with the shine runs. He and Liam had been hauling their Uncle's whiskey since Liam was 14, and Brian was 12. They would always do the runs late at night to avoid being seen. Liam, being the most mature, was the driver of the Charger at first. Later on, he and Jake taught Brian to handle the car better, and soon Brian was the driver, and Liam was the navigator. The Charger was given to Brian after Liam left.

On the side, Brian entered local derbies and rallies with the General (the name he dubbed the car), and became involved with the Mopar Moonrunners ridge running team that his friend Critter was part of. When Liam got out of the Army and got himself the Challenger, he was inducted in too.

Katy, unlike her two cousins, started attending community college, studying Ecology. She took a side job as a waitress at the local bar/grill for money. Throughout this time, Katy dated but never found the 'right man' she was looking for. Even though she wanted to complete school and earn her degree, Katy wanted a steady man she could love and raise a family with; almost every girl's dream.

Uncle Jake had never forced either of his nephews to help with his moonshine deliveries; they simply volunteered for it. At first, he was very hesitant to even let them _accompany_ him during the deliveries, but one night, after hurting his arm while working on the farm, he needed some fast help. When Brian and Liam came to answer the call, Jake had no choice but to accept their help. While on that run, Jake saw not only how much fun they were having, but also well they could handle the roads on their first time. From then on, Jake taught his nephews driving maneuvers during the day, and let them take on the deliveries at night. However, he made a law, not just a rule, but a LAW that cousin Katy would NEVER make a shine run. Not even if she was the last driver on the planet. It wasn't because she was a bad driver; she wasn't bad at all, really. It was because Jake was extremely protective of his niece, and wanted nothing bad to happen to her. He couldn't forgive himself if something had because of his doing. Brian and Liam had no problem following that law, on account they were just as protective. Still, every now and then, Katy got into a few races in her '71 Plymouth Barracuda.

The skills they learned from their dear uncle came in handy when ditching the law, and were about to come into play again when Sheriff Hoss Colemain pulled out of a hidden spot near Hazzard Haven in his Plymouth Gran Fury and let the siren roar.

"Alright," he spoke over the CB, "you Jennings pull it on over 'ere and come out with your hands up!"

"Dammit. Real perfect timing." Liam cursed as he saw the siren lights in his rearview mirror. He knew Brian still had a case of moonshine left in his trunk because Old Man Grady went out to his fishing cottage for vacation and wouldn't be back until next week. Brian told Liam about that from the note he had read taped to the old man's front door. That meant they had a case to take back home couldn't deliver it until Grady came home.

Not wasting any time, Liam flashed his brights to the syllables of "evasive action". This was a code the Jennings family had used for multiple vehicles since their first run.

Brian pressed his brake pedal twice, letting his cousin know he got the message, and then cut his lights off. With everything set, they were ready. Liam cut his lights off completely and pulled off to the side behind some bushes so Sheriff Hoss would pass him. Once Hoss had passed, Liam launched his Challenger back onto the road and tailed Hoss.

"Pull it over, you Jennings! Ya' hear?" Hoss called again over the CB. "Ya' ain't gettin' away from me this time!"

Brian pushed the accelerator and shifted up a gear to put some distance between him Hoss. A long right came up ahead, and they entered it. In the middle of the curve, Brian downshifted and used the handbrake to help him slide out of the turn. Hoss almost spun himself out trying to keep up, while Liam kept a safe distance so he wouldn't rear-end the Sheriff and damage either car. It was hard on the Sheriff when the cars he was after didn't have their lights on.

The road was being eaten up like spaghetti by the hungry cars. Brian upshifted once again to put some distance between his Charger and the Sheriff's Gran Fury and blew through a smooth left curve that led to a fork in the road. He head down the right and made it through a series of short corners, downshifting on only a few of the more sharper ones. There were two dirt embankments down this road, and Brian had passed the first one. He looked into the mirror, and saw the Sheriff bang his right fender against that same one.

"Ouch." He winced at that sight.

"Ohh, you Jennings are gonna pay for that!" Hoss called over. He sped up as much as he could and aimed right for the Charger's rear. Brian sped up to avoid being slammed.

"Damn, the Sheriff must REALLY be in a bad moon tonight!" Brian said to himself. He looked up ahead at the long right corner. After that long right came the sharp left where the second embankment was. If he didn't slow down, he was going to crash!

Luckily for Brian, Liam knew the second embankment was coming up. He honked his horn loudly a few times, and kept it up until he saw the Fury's stop lights come on. The Sheriff got scared and slammed his brakes.

With precious seconds bought, Brian downshifted and yanked the handbrake up to make the sharp turn. The rear grazed the second embankment. Then…

"Ooohooo!" Sheriff Hoss tried to make the turn, but spun out and hit the right side of his car up against the embankment. Thanks to his seatbelt, he was alright. The only thing hurt was his pride.

Liam quickly and smoothly made the turn without having to use the handbrake. He got as close as five inches to the embankment and never touched it.

Brian saw his cousin make the turn, and both of them let out the rebel yell and honked their horns, leaving the irritated Sheriff behind.

The Jennings boys turned into their farm sometime later pulled and parked. They entered their house and immediately headed for bed after the chase had exhausted them.

After brushing their teeth they settled into bed to get some sleep. Before they could completely fall asleep, Brian looked across the room to Liam.

"Hey, cuz," he called out softly.

"What's up, Brian?" Liam sat up and rubbed his eyes before looking back.

"Can I ask you somethin'?"

"Yeah, sure. What's on your mind?"

"Well," Brian hesitated slightly, "You remember how everyone at the meet got freaked at the challenge at first?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"I didn't hear you shouting. And you didn't even stall when you nodded to Critter to go along with it. Why's that?"

"Because, I know how they race. Remember how I got to see a lot of places when I was in the Army?"

Brian nodded. "Mhm."

"Well, Japan was one of the places I got to stop at, and I got a chance to see how they race. I gotta tell ya, it's nothing like we do."

"How do you mean?" Brian pressed.

"They race on touges instead of the streets."

"Touges? What's a touge?"

"A mountain pass. And they have a _lot_ of turns and corners up there. They use mostly drift to take the corners."

The word 'drift' caught Brian's ear. "What's drift?"

"Well, it's kinda like power sliding. Except instead of sliding just _out_ of the turn, you slide both _in_ and _out_ of the turn in drift. Very handy since those turns are like U's. I used a drift to clear across the second embankment. It's called Inertia Drift."

Brian got a little nervous at that piece of information. "That was a drift? How come you never told me you knew all this before?"

"Well, cuz, you never asked." Liam chuckled. "Besides, I was still figuring out at the time how drifting works and how we could apply it to our own cars. It ain't gonna be easy since Japanese cars are designed to take the corners, while ours were designed to just take the straights. I had to modify my Challenger just so I could take the corners smoother."

"How are we gonna take them then, Liam? And what are we gonna tell Uncle Jake?"

"Don't worry about that just yet. I have an idea. First, I have to talk it over with Sung before we can put it to work. As for Uncle Jake, I'm sure he'll go for it. But, right now, we're both too tired. Let's get some sleep, ok?"

"Alright. Goodnight, cuz."

"Goodnight."

With that conversation over, they both went to sleep, unaware that their beautiful cousin Katy was just outside the door, listening in with a smile on her lovely face, playing with her long dark brown hair. _"I wonder what my two cousins are up to now…" _She wondered curiously.

To be continued…

* * *

Author's notes: Took me long enough, I know. I hope I haven't lost any of your interests yet! Stick around, chapter 2 will be up soon! 

See ya'll next time!


	3. Chapter 2

Ridgerunner Touge

Disclaimer: I do not own Initial D, and any references made to any other television shows, films, or works of fiction are meant to pay homage and I am in no way making money off this story. It's just a labor of love.

Chapter 2

Ty made it home a little after one in the morning. Home for him was a little house deep in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't much to look at, but it had a kitchen, a patch of living room space, one bathroom, two small bedrooms, and a one-car garage connected to it, and it was affordable. It was all Ty needed as far as he was concerned.

He didn't hit the hay as soon as he got home. The excitement from the meeting got him too hopped up to sleep just yet. Instead, he was going to enjoy a cold beer and watch the night sky until he felt tired. After he parked the Boss in the garage, locked it, and came into the house, he was greeted by his dog, Barkley. The dog hopped up and down around Ty as he walked through the hallway to the refrigerator. Ty knelt down and pet Barkley, smiling as the dog licked his face.

"Hey, Bark! Ya miss me, boy?" He asked, even though he knew the dog couldn't respond with anything more than licking. Ty stroked Barkley behind his ears and when the dog rolled over, he rubbed his stomach. Barkley was a pit bull that Ty had rescued from the local pound after he had been caught running through some of the farmers' cornfields. Some of the farmers tried to shoot him but Barkley managed to outrun them since it's hard to aim at a moving target through a confield. But, he ran into the arms of Ol' Pete, the owner of the local animal shelter. Luckily for Barkley, Pete loved animals and dedicated his retirement to sheltering stray animals until someone would come along to adopt one. He made it a rule to never put an animal to sleep unless it was suffering horribly because it always broke his heart when any animal died. That's the main reason he never went hunting or fishing.

Ty had moved into the area recently from his family's home in Baltimore, Maryland. Around this time, he was still racing his 1970 AMC Javelin that he and his father rebuilt together. In the small house he was renting out, Ty felt a little lonely, being away from his family and friends and living in a new state and all. He decided that since he's always loved dogs, he would get one from the local shelter.

The local animal shelter was really a large, old, but well-kept barn with no cages. Ol' Pete didn't believe in cages; he thought they were cruel. The pickings were relatively slim since there weren't many strays running around. In the end, he didn't have to pick the dog; the dog picked him.

When Ty tripped over Barkely and landed in the hay, Barkley jumped on him, licking and slobbering all over. Ty couldn't help but laugh at the dog's affection, and that was the only reason he needed to adopt Barkley. Since then, he's been much happier.

Ty opened the refrigerator, pulled a cold Coors beer bottle out, popped the cap off with his thumb and had a drink. He shut the refrigerator door and sat on a chair in the kitchen, looking out at the acre of land he had and the sky above it, holding his beer with one hand and petting Barkley with the other.

_"Man, what a beautiful night,"_ he thought as he smiled at the view. _"It just don't get any better than this."_ Ever since he was a kid, he enjoyed looking out through the window, watching the clouds pass over in the sky and the moon shining down on whatever it pleased. During that, he would just fantasize about whatever was on his mind and smile.

Tonight, the big meet was on his mind and he fantasized about how the upcoming 'east meets west' race would go down. He pictured him and his teammates roaring down the mountains at the speed of light, over taking and dominating every one of the rival cars until they crossed the finish line into victory lane. He took another sip of his cold beer.

Even after all this time, Ty didn't dare tell anyone, especially his teammates, about his night-dreaming, fearing they wouldn't understand and just ridicule him for it. Besides, who _really_ needed to know what his private thoughts were? That's what he reasoned.

His thoughts drifted back to the day when he got the Boss and when he soon after joined the F/GM RidgeRollers…

* * *

"_God dammit!" Ty cursed as he searched the junkyard. It was a hot summer day at the beginning of June, and Ty was feeling like he could explode. A week earlier, his '70 AMC Javelin was wrecked in a race by a co-worker mechanic whom he had loaned it to. The car was rolled when the driver tried to slide through a corner, only to slam the side into a guardrail, and rolled it into a tree. To say that enraged him was only the half of it; he was pissed to high Hell. That driver would have been dead if Ty hadn't been held back by his fellow mechanics. Even then, he gave his co-worker a black eye for the irreparable damage done to the Javelin._

_The insurance company wouldn't give Ty enough money for a new car, but they did give him a check just enough for an old used one. He couldn't find a decent one at the local lots, so he decided to scavenge about the junkyard, in hopes he could find something that he could build strong from the ground up. It wasn't easy, as everywhere he turned, he just saw old, junked cars piled on top of each other forming walls. Even the ones lined up in little groups near the junked car-walls wouldn't hack it. Nevertheless, Ty kept looking. He needed to find a car so he could stop hitching rides with co-workers. _

_When he reached the back of the junkyard, he saw some dented and rusted old clunkers that caught his eye. Most of them were from the early-sixties to mid-seventies models. They were lined up side by side near the back fence with the doors and hoods open. Ty decided to take a closer look at them, and saw a '79 Chevrolet Camaro, a '61 Dodge Dart, a '63 Pontiac Tempest, a '64 Buick Riviera, a '68 Ford Torino, and a '76 Ford Thunderbird. The Camaro on one hand was tempting, but 1979 was not a good year for that particular make. The Torino on the other hand was a good year and a very fast muscle car, but the opened hood revealed it had no engine in it. Shifting his gaze from car to car, Ty couldn't make up his mind until he turned his head too far to the right and caught the front round light of another car._

"_What the hell?" He wondered aloud, making his way to the car. As he neared it, he saw more of the body and his eyes grew wider while his pulse quickened. He sprinted toward it, and stopped when he was only a foot away from contact. Right in front of him was a rusted 1969 Ford Mustang. Something about it told Ty that this wasn't an ordinary fastback Ford, so he popped the hood open and saw a 302 engine that needed work but could be saved. His eyes immediately searched the side for the emblem that would reveal what type of Mustang it was. In a faded strip running down the dented front fender, the word 'BOSS' was still visible. The Mustang was the legendary Boss 302._

"_Holy shit! The Boss!" _

_After purchasing the Mustang and some essentially needed replacement parts for it, Ty immediately set to work on the Boss in his garage. When he wasn't working, eating or sleeping, Ty devoted his time to restoring the car. He worked on the exterior first, sanding off the rust which thankfully was just cosmetic and not rooted. He painted it the original Ford Red color that it came in, to preserve its history. After that, he put new tires on and began working on the interior. When he finished with the interior, the final step was the engine._

_Ty replaced anything that needed to be. That included but wasn't limited to the spark plug, distributor cap, radiator, a few hoses and air filter. Finally, after two months of hard work, Ty started the engine up and roared out of the garage in the reborn Boss, not caring that he was in ragged old work clothes with grease on his face. He took it out for a test run on the back roads, and it performed just fine save for a few nuances that he corrected that night after tearing up the roads for hours without looking at a clock or even a watch. _

_He brought it into work the next day, showing it off to his co-workers. Later on, he saw the same co-worker who crashed his Javelin, and Ty went over to apologize to him for the black eye. The co-worker apologized for wrecking the Javelin, knowing how much it meant to Ty. In the end, they made their peace, and Ty even thanked him for giving him the chance to get a legendary car like the Boss and offered him a ride home._

_After dropping the co-worker off, Ty headed for home and at one point noticed a car following closely behind him. Every corner he took, the car stayed on him. Ty knew he was being drafted, so he pulled onto Coletrane Grove, a famous quarter-mile stretch that many road racers liked settling their differences out on. The braver, or crazier road racers took the whole mile through the woods, with the finish line ended at the train tracks._

_When he stopped at the starting point, the wooden sign, a red '76 Ford Gran Torino with a white stripe arching the middle, pulled up beside the Boss. The driver, a tough-looking guy with a shaved head and a white muscle shirt, rolled down his window and looked at Ty, then his car, and nodded approvingly._

"_Nice ride," the driver said. "You make a deal with the Devil for that?"_

"_Naw," Ty chuckled, "It was hot as Hell that day I got her though."_

"_I'll bet. I'd have taken that Boss in a heartbeat. You know how much those things run nowadays?"_

"_Too much for a fully restored one. That's why I bought her from the junkyard for a small fee and restored her from the ground up."_

"_For real?" The Torino driver sounded impressed. "Still, that had to have cost some serious bank to get it running."_

"_Oh man, it did," Ty admitted. "More than a little, but less than too much. I did it though; I got her running."_

_The driver of the Torino looked ahead. "You know," he spoke while he overlooked the forest roads. "The railroad tracks are a full mile from here, with a few curves along the way. What say we see what the Boss can really do?"_

_Ty raised his left brow. "Dawg, you calling me out?"_

_The Torino driver revved his engine as he turned to smirk at Ty. "Not to dinner."_

"_A'ight, I see how it is. You got yourself a race!" Ty revved up._

"_If you say so. I'm gonna honk my horn three times. On the third, we go for it."_

"_Fine with me."_

_Both drivers turned to face the wicked road ahead, ready to tear out on the drop of either a pin or a bra, the latter of which most public races were started with. The Torino driver hit his horn once…then twice…then he paused for a moment. Ty gripped the wheel at the sudden attack of suspense, which was most likely no accident._

_HOOOOOOONK! The rear tires of the Torino and the Mustangs shrieked and burned, leaving two pairs of tire marks behind as they shot ahead. The first quarter mile was nothing but a straight, where only the fastest could make it. That's where most of the amateurs scored their victories, but the real professionals took it past all the way down the winding curves where speed and power alone weren't enough to complete the full mile._

_The Torino and the Boss were neck and neck until halfway down the quarter mile when the Torino pushed ahead. Ty didn't worry too much since the corners ahead would give him the chance to catch up. He pressed the accelerator down, then let off of it for a brief second. He kicked the clutch, up-shifted to the fourth gear, and floored the accelerator. Only a few feet ahead still lead the Torino._

_Both zipped by one after the other past the curve sign that signaled the end of the quarter mile, and the beginning of the real mile run. The Torino driver let off the accelerator and braked only lightly, down-shifted a gear, pulled the handbrake and made a wide, brisk turn into the first right, slowing down slightly. Ty counted on that, so he down-shifted a little earlier, pulled his handbrake, and when he made the turn, he stuck to the inside of the curve, floored the accelerator in the middle, and up-shifted._

_He was only a few feet behind the Torino until the driver took advantage of the straight and sped down. Ty sped up as well, doing his best to remain as close as he could to the car ahead. The trees looked like they would in a film being fast forward. For a brief second, the drivers thought they could actually see the air looking like little needles whizzing past. _

_A long left followed in which both drivers didn't have to slow down to take it. The Torino sped up slightly, it's rear tires sliding out just a bit while the Mustang maintained it's current speed as Ty waited for the right moment. _

_A sharp right came just ahead and the Torino once again went wide, almost touching the guardrail and slowing down significantly just for that moment. Ty took advantage and slide into the corner, diagonally aside the Torino and took the lead._

"_Yeah! YEAH!" Ty cheered, shaking his right fist before up-shifting. "Try and pass me now, fool!" _

_The driver of the Torino looked ahead and saw what he figured was Ty prematurely celebrating. "Not bad, kid," he admitted. "You eat amateurs for breakfast, that's for sure. But, let's see how well you do when I break the act and show what I'm REALLY like."_

_With that in mind, he sped up only a bit down the long right curve lead, staying behind the Boss even when it entered the long left. Ty noticed this in his rearview mirror, and a look of confusion across his face._

"_What the hell? He gave up already?" He asked himself. He quickly shook his head. "Naw, it's too easy. There's still half a mile to go. He's got somethin' planned."_

_Sure enough, the driver did. Another sharp left came up, and while Ty tried to take it as smooth as he could, the Torino slid only slightly, sticking to the inside just as Ty had. It caught right up to the Mustang, and tapped the rear._

"_Muthafucka!" The Torino pushed the Mustang for only a little bit before just simply following. "Get off my ass!" Ty shouted._

"_Wait for it…wait for it…" The Torino driver thought. He moved to the next lane. "NOW!" He dropped the hammer right into fourth gear and passed Ty. "FUCK!" Ty didn't come that far to give up, so he floored it to catch up. While he was getting closer to the Torino, Ty saw the railroad crossing was getting closer._

"_I'm not gonna win this," he realized. "Shit! He was playin' me the whole race!" If that wasn't enough, the lights and the bells at the crossing started flashing and ringing the warning that the CoalTrain was coming. _

_Right before the long barriers sat down completely, the Torino skip-jumped right across the track without touching the barriers, which soon after lowered completely. Soon after, the train was heard whistling, and could be seen making the corner. But, Ty kept going._

"_I ain't coppin' out now. I started this, I'm gonna finish it. I ain't losing what face I got left!" He zeroed on the track, and made the skip-jump as the Torino had, just several feet away from the train. _

_When he landed, Ty spun the steering around, making the Boss do a one-eighty and stopping at the side of the gravel road. He put the car in neutral, grabbed his chest, and breathed the heaviest he ever had in his life._

"_I don't believe it," he thought. "I jumped the track. I jumped the TRACK! Right in front of that damn train! Holy shi-"_

_A loud engine rev interrupted his thoughts. In his left mirror, he saw the Torino heading for him. It parked right next to him as Ty looked out the window._

_The Torino driver had a smile of being both amused and impressed at what he just witnessed. "Not bad, man. Not bad at all! I knew you had balls."_

_"Thanks man. But, that was kinda much for my-" Ty stopped replying when he caught a glance of the sticker on in the rear window of the Torino. Finally having the chance to see it in full made Ty realize who had been racing; a member of the F/GM RidgeRollers. His heart almost stopped at the sight._

_"You alright man?" The Torino driver asked. _

_Ty blinked and then looked back at the driver, trying to keep his face set cool. "I'm a'right."_

_"Cool. Hey listen, I didn't catch you name before we raced."_

_"Oh, it's Tyrone Gibson. I prefer bein' called Ty."_

_"Nice name. Mine's Donovan Vincent. Friends call me 'Don Vin' 'cause I'm Italian." He chuckled at the last part of his sentence._

_Ty's eyes widened. "Don Vin? Don 'Leader of the RidgeRollers' Vin?!"_

_Don raised a brow in amusement, "Oh, so you've heard of me, huh?"_

_"Hell yeah! Every racer around here, street or track, knows you!"_

_"Actually, they know OF me; they don't really know me," Don corrected. "Hey, listen. When I was racing you, I liked what I saw. Especially at the end when you jumped the track when the train was only a fucking meter away. You want in on my crew's action?"_

_"Huh?" It sounded too good to be true to Ty. "Say what again?"_

_"Do you want in on the RidgeRollers? The whole reason I challenged you was because I saw you and your ride and thought you had potential. So, you want in or not?"_

_Ty could only blurt out one answer: "Yeah! I want in!"_

_"Right answer," Don told him. "Tomorrow, I want you to come to "The Don's AutoMob Shop. You know where it is?"_

_"Yeah, I know."_

_"Good. Then, pull up and walk on in. Ask one of the employees for me, and we'll set it all up for ya. Cool?"_

_"It's cool."_

_Don looked pleased with the whole event. "Alright, I'll see you tomorrow." With the conversation finished, The Don put the Torino in reverse and backed up. After a few feet, he spun the car around, put it in first gear, and sped off into the night._

_The excitement got too much for Ty, so he threw open his door and jumped on the hood of his car, whooping as loud as he could in celebration; he was going to be a RidgeRoller._

_He stopped jumping when he felt himself sink subtly, and looked down to see the hood of his Mustang was a little pounded in. "Oh SHIT! My baby!" He would have to pound that out.

* * *

_

Ty smiled at the memory, and with heavy eye lids, decided it was time to go to sleep. He looked down at Barkley, and saw the dog was already asleep. 

"Night Bark," he told the sleeping pit bull, scratching his floppy ears. Ty left the beer on the table and walked to the bathroom to brush his teeth and take care of 'business'. When that was taken care of, he walked to his bedroom and plopped right on the bed.

"A'ight, Sandman. Bring me a dream," he said to no one. "Hopefully about us kicking some ass up in Japan. And, maybe some fine Japanese girl in the backseat of my Boss! Heh heh!"

To be continued…

* * *

Author's notes: Yeah, I know I'm taking my sweet time with this, but I'm trying to make sure it's done right. :-/ I hope you guys haven't lost interest yet. Remember, if I screw up a detail about the cars or the Initial D characters, let me know. And, if my characters become too "Sue-ish", please make me aware of it! Thanks guys! 


	4. Chapter 3

Ridgerunner Touge

Disclaimer: I do not own Initial D, and any references made to any other television shows, films, or works of fiction are meant to pay homage and I am in no way making money off this story. It's just a labor of love.

Chapter 3

Jack Gavino and Quentin Phoenix walked into their trailer home exhausted and thirsty. It wasn't very big, or very attractive. The outside panels were all white with some discoloring, wear and tear. The inside was a little better, with all brown pine walls decorated with posters of classic GM cars ranging from Buicks to Pontiacs. There were a few small rugs with Cherokee designs, courtesy of Quentin's parents.

Jack grabbed two cans of Coors Keystone Ice beer, tossed one of them to Quentin, popped the tab into the can and took a swig. Quentin had caught the can as he shut the door behind him, and uttered a 'thanks'. He popped open his own can and sipped.

There was uncomfortable silence between the two for a while until Quentin figured it was now or never to talk to his friend.

"Hey Jack, is it cool if I ask you somethin'?"

Jack shrugged his shoulders before answering, "Sure, whatever." He took another swig from his can.

"Alright." Quentin took a deep breath and looked at him. "Why are you so against this whole thing?"

"Against what?"

"The alliance and the challenge. What's your problem with it?" Quentin sipped his beer after asking.

Jack looked back hard, but not hatefully. "My problem? First off, we're running with enemies. We've been at war with those hillbilly Moonrunners for a long ass time. Second, what the hell is this about all of us going to Japan just to race a bunch of ricers? We could smoke as many of 'em as we want over here any damn day. I mean, why waste our time with those rim-jobbin', fart-cannon exhaust 4-cylinder, ff-driving losers?"

"Han said these guys are different. Over there in Japan, most of those racers take pride in upgrading cars for the better."

"Pssh." Jack let out some lip music. "Yeah, right. Those cars don't have near the horsepower American cars do. Not even the old 240z's or Celica's had much horsepower to begin with. They'd have no chance against my goat." Goat being another name for the Pontiac GTO Jack so proudly owned.

Quentin shook his head. "Well, I hate to burst your bubble, ol' buddy. But, my dad told me of a friend of his who beat a guy in a 70 Chevy Chevelle."

"So?"

"My dad's friend was driving a 240z."

Jack almost spat his beer out upon hearing that. To him, that had to be next to impossible. "How'd the hell did that happen?! There's no fuckin' way that could have gone down like that!"

"Oh, it did. The guy in the Chevelle was hurling slurs at my dad. So, his friend got pissed and challenged him to a road race. The Chevelle led for a good while, but my dad's friend was just toying with him through most of the race. At the final turn, he bump-drafted the guy and at the very end dropped the hammer. Beat the guy by three lengths!"

"Dude, you're shitting me and you know it!" Jack sounded both angry and amazed at what he heard. Angry, because he thought Quentin was lying to him, and amazed because he couldn't believe a Datsun beat a Chevy. The sheer idea seemed abominable to him.

Quentin sipped more of his beer. "Jack, how long we've known each other? How long you've known me to be anything but an' Honest Injun?" He smiled at his own nickname. "I wouldn't start shitting you after all this time we've been friends."

Jack looked at him for a long while, taking his time to come to terms with the fact his friend wasn't lying about an Japanese import beating an American domestic. Anyone who knew Quentin knew he was always honest, even as a child. His father taught him the lesson that honesty was the best policy. That's how he earned that little nickname, and he took pride in it.

"How the hell did he do it, man?"

"Well, the Chevelle was heavier with a big engine, but the Z had the advantage with a lighter weight and the good engine itself had. Plus, it was by no means stock. My dad's friend knew how to make a car run."

"Shit, I'd have never known. I mean, damn…how does that happen?"

"Lot of hard work, ma' friend. Lotta hard work."

"So, where's the 240z now?"

Quentin looked down at the floor and shook his head. "Sadly enough, while they were both driving on the road one night, they both fell asleep at the wheel and the car rolled over into a ditch."

"Damn!" Jack winced at that.

"Oh yeah. It wasn't pretty. Luckily, they came out with only a few bruises and one broken bone each. After that, his friend bought a '77 Firebird Trans-am."

Jack briefly smiled. "Now THAT'S what I'm talking about!"

"Oh, yeah. Brand-spanking new with a 400 under the hood, put in some glass packs, some new headers, cold-air intake, air filter and a shit load of other parts and that baby ran! Unfortunately, that same friend joined the Navy, and he got a little plastered one night with the guys, drove while drunk and got cited for it. Had to sell the car 'cause the insurance agent raised the rates."

Jack's smiled turned upside down into a frown. "Damn…"

"Well, something good came out of it. He ended up selling the car to my dad for dirt cheap, with the promise that my dad would take care of it. And he did. Years later, when I got my license, dad gave me the car, and that's what's parked outside next to the Goat."

"Sweet deal," Jack said, chugging the rest of his Coors afterwards.

"Oh yeah. I've made it a point to thank that guy someday should I ever find him." With that thought in mind, Quentin sipped the rest of his beer and tossed it over his head, right into the can.

* * *

HONK! HONK! Critter jumped up from his bed and almost hit the ceiling when he heard a loud car horn outside.

"What the hell is makin' that racket this time of night?!" He asked himself as he covered his ears. He kept his ears covered in hopes that God awful noise would go away. Unfortunately, the horn kept blowing more aggressively until Critter couldn't take it anymore.

Normally, Critter was one of the nicest personalities around the town, but he did have his limits. Once he was pushed past those limits, he got scarily angry. All of that honking just pushed his "pissed off" button.

"Alright, that's it! The turkey just shat out a cougar! A very pissed off cougar!" Critter threw the sheets off of him and went to his closet, where he grabbed his twelve-gauge Remington shotgun. Loading and pumping it, he stomped downstairs and made his way to the front door. He yanked the door open and shouted, "Alright, dammit! Who's making all that racket and keeping me away from a nice time in the mountains with Shania Twain?!" Little recurring dream Critter had.

"Critter Jones, you put that twelve gauge down or I'll have you arrested for possession of a weapon without a permit!" Critter recognized the voice, but still had to squint to confirm his suspicion.

"Aw, hell." He muttered. "Sheriff Hoss Colemain, what in the hell could you want at this ungodly hour?"

Sheriff Hoss walked on over as Critter set aside his shotgun. "Watch your tone with me, young man. I could have you arrested for verbal assault on a police officer!"

"Sorry…" Critter muttered as he rubbed his eyes. Although he was in a most foul mood, Critter knew he could only fight the law so much. So, he changed his tone and tried to be a polite as he could. "What can I do you for, Sheriff?"

"First of all, it's Sheriff Colemain. Secondly, it's 'what can I do _for_ you'." Colemain really had a thing for chastising Critter and his friends, just to get on their nerves.

"Well sorry, it's a little late. What can I do _for_ you, Sheriff Colemain?"

"That's better. Now, as you can probably see from here, my pursuit ve-hicle is all scuffed up from pursuing those reckless Jennings boys."

Critter looked on at Roscoe's Gran Fury, and saw it was indeed scuffed up. "Let me guess, you hit the corner at Dead Man's Curce again, din't you?"

"What, what. Ohhh! I didn't hit any corner. The corner hit me!"

"Sure, it did. Well, just leave it here tonight, when I wake up at around 7 or 8, I'll get to working on it."

"Ohh no, that won't do Critter. I need it fixed now."

"Now?!" Critters eye bulged out of his head at the request. "Sheriff Colemain, don't ya know late it is?"

"Don't you raise your voice at me, young man. I'll cuff ya and stuff ya with one hand behind my back." Colemain warned.

"Sheriff Colemain," Critter whined, "It's so late in the night and I gotta get my beauty rest! I'll get to it first thing in the morning, I swear!"

Sheriff Colemain, as stubborn as a mule (almost as dumb too), kept shaking his head. "Either tonight, or I'll go around town saying how you refused a customer."

"Good luck with that. Any other mechanic with half a brain would turn away a customer after midnight."

Colemain raised his index finger up and grinned. "Ah, but what if I just so happen to leave that part out? Who's word do you think the good people will take: a dirty mechanic's or the honest lawman whom he turned away when his vehicle was in shambles?"

Critter sighed in defeat. You couldn't argue with Sheriff Colemain because he'd always find a way to "win". "Fine, Colemain, I'll fix it for ya."

"That's _Sheriff_ Colemain," the smug Sheriff corrected.

"Don't push it," Critter muttered as he opened his garage to set work on the Fury police car.

* * *

Takumi gripped the wheel of the Imprezza GC8 for that night's deliveries. Slowly but steadily, the young racer was learning the characteristics of four-wheel drive and how to drive with it. Drifting with it was a bit weird since the car kept a lot of grip on the road, so Takumi had to be very precise with the heel-toe and downshift method to get it to work properly.

Many thoughts raced through Takumi's mind as he drove. Starting back when he started racing to the future challengers coming his way. He also thought about Natsuki Mogi. Although it had been some time since she left, he couldn't get her out of his mind.

Even though he didn't admit it at first, Takumi loved Natsuki. He still didn't know why out of all the other guys she could have had, she chose to be with him. But, she did anyway, against everything that seemed logical to Takumi. It went from an above average friendship to a loving yet troubled relationship, strained by Natsuki moonlighting as an escort girl.

Even though it hurt him to see her being driven with the "Papa" in the Mercedes-Benz, he never could find it in his heart to truly hate her. Oh sure, he was madder than hell after finding out for himself her "job", and almost severed all ties with her. But, Natsuki was genuinely sorry and wanted to make it right with Takumi. She quit her "job", got a real one, and would talk to Takumi whenever the opportunity presented itself. At the time, he didn't understand why she would go through so much trouble to make amends, and he still didn't, truth be told.

It wasn't until the impromptu Christmas party at the Fujiwara Tofu Shop that Takumi started to completely warm up to Natsuki again. It all came to a head when she called him for help when Miki, her perverted ex, kidnapped her in his Celica and took her to Lake Akine with the intention to rape her after finding out Natsuki was in love with Takumi (he never forgot that right cross that Takumi gave him in the locker room, bloodying his nose in front of all those seniors).

In that instant cry for help, what Natsuki did in her past didn't matter. What did matter was that was in danger, and Takumi was the only one who could help her. Miki thought because his Celica GT was an all-wheel drive car, that he could outrun the rear-wheel drive AE86. What Miki neglected to take into account was that Takumi had been driving Mt. Akina for years, be it dry pavement or wet pavement. Hell, he even had to do it in the snow. Needless to say, Miki was a little unpleasantly surprised to see the AE86 keep up with his higher end Celica. It didn't help that Natsuki started to taunt him a bit from the passenger side.

Eventually, Takumi had kept up with the two long enough that Miki lost both his nerves, and his control over his car, spinning out and hitting a guard rail. While he moped over his car, Natsuki took the chance to escape the Celica and to take off with Takumi.

Right when he thought of that crash, Takumi drifted past the same corner Miki spun out on. It was slightly amusing to Takumi that he managed to do what Miki couldn't.

As he kept driving, Takumi continued to think more about Natsuki and what took place after the rescue. Their relationship was getting better, and things were starting to heat up. Natsuki told Takumi of her intentions to go to Tokyo University, and felt that he should come with her. Sadly, college wasn't where Takumi wanted to go. Where he wanted to go was a professional race track and be a professional driver. It's what he loved to do, and he couldn't fight it, even if it meant losing Natsuki.

A few days before she left, Natsuki had Takumi take them to a love hotel, where for the first time, they got really intimate. It was Takumi's first real time, and Natsuki's first real time, since all the other times were only out of lust and not love. It couldn't have felt more right to the two lovers, so they savored the moment, knowing they would soon be separated.

Then that fateful day came. Natsuki boarded a train to Tokyo, and bid goodbye to Takumi, promising to write him whenever she got a chance. She kept her word, and Takumi found out she was doing quite well at the University, and had a part-time job at the local video store. Although each letter was different, one thing was consistent, and that was the love she professed to him at the end of every letter. Takumi would always return the sentiment in his own letters.

Now almost out of Mt. Akina, Takumi Fujiwara couldn't help but feel a little happy at the memories. Even though there were bad times, he was glad to have gotten to know real love. It provided him a sense of balance he hadn't felt before. As he headed back to the tofu shop, Takumi wondered what the future would bring not only with the new challengers coming, but also if he would ever be in another meaningful relationship with anyone as special at Natsuki.

To be continued…

* * *

Author's Notes: Hey guys, sorry it took me so long to update, but I'm back! I hope you guys enjoyed the new chapter! Remember, if I'm screwing something up, let me know! See ya next time!


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